


Old and New Memories

by headraline



Series: Nights to Remember [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly feels, I just miss my sister and project it on them, Other, don't mind me, let these dragon bois reconcile, minor mentions of other characters - Freeform, really brother-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headraline/pseuds/headraline
Summary: Genji talks a big game about forgiveness, but it doesn't really hit him how much he actually missed his brother until he uncovers something he had almost forgotten.





	Old and New Memories

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read Star Struck, this one-shot wille strike you as incredibly similar to the scene in chapter 10.  
> That's because it's simply a different take on the same concept -Genji worked hard to "forgive and forget", while Hanzo never let himself forget a single moment; the good, the bad and the worst.
> 
> Inspired by these two adorably goofy siblings -I saw the videos, and thought "These could so be Genji and Hanzo as children!"  
> [one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9e4NWnCsrl8) ("Oh, look! Music!")  
> [two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8F0ZEHCjhc) (ringtone shenanigans)
> 
> Also implied McHanzo, because yes.
> 
> sorry if it feels _too_ similar to that one scene in Star Struck, I just really found myself missing my family tonight, and writing about Genji and Hanzo hugging it out makes me miss my own sibling a little less.  
>  please love me.

Life at the Watchpoint is not the same anymore.

Hanzo had been reluctant, but he ultimately caved in to Genji’s request –his thought process being _‘I owe him that much at the very least.’_ – so here he is now, in a sparsely decorated room in Gibraltar that he has no intention of making more lived in, a group of rag-tag not-quite-heroes that regard him with discomfort thinly veiled with courtesy, and a brother who forgave him for the worst possible crime.

Or claims to, at least. Genji fills his mouth with his Master’s words and talks a big game about redemption and second chances, but Hanzo sees him when his little brother thinks he’s not watching: phantom pains would sometimes hit any given place in Genji’s body and he’d get this _look_ –strong enough to bleed through the visor, in his posture, the curl of his shoulders, the instinctive closing in on himself, _everything–_ Genji would fold in and just _remember_.

And suddenly forgiveness tastes a lot more bitter. Still, to Genji’s credit, such moments are usually brief, and whenever they happen it only seems to redouble his efforts in reconciliation, and Hanzo indulges him, because, really, when has he ever not? And he is willing to that tenfold now: he has taken everything from Genji –his limbs, his old life, his blood – it doesn’t matter how many times Genji himself tells him it’s fine, Hanzo can’t help but thinking: how in the _world_ could things _ever_ be fine, for them?

He makes it a point to try harder to fit in with the team, to make amends. He spends a long time in the medbay without having been injured, one day, long enough that it has Genji worried things might have escalated with Angela, but as he dashes for the door –having even recruited McCree’s reluctant help, just to be safe– the pair is talking more or less amicably as they come out of the very door the cyborg was getting ready to kick down.

“For what it is worth, I understand you a little better now, Hanzo.” The doctor said, somewhat stiffly but with the barest hint of an empathetic smile, “And despite what you still think, the fact that you’re here at all _does_ count for something.”

Both Genji and McCree are openly gaping at the scene, when Hanzo _returns the smile_ , albeit just as stiffly. “Thank you for your time, doctor Ziegler.” He says, not without some leftover awkwardness, but baby steps. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

He is startled by the presence of his brother and the cowboy, and confusion does make his way to his face before he can properly get his expression under control again. “What?” he asks his brother, tone still slightly uncertain.

It takes a while for Genji to find his voice and answer. “N… nothing, I guess?”

Hanzo actually brings a hand to his mouth to conceal a small chuckle, before bowing his head slightly to Genji as a goodbye. The duo is still standing in the hallway, so he has to sidestep the cowboy –McCree, he remembers– and, being in a good mood, Hanzo allows himself to look the man up and down.

He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t find him interesting, what with the obvious similarities in their past, and the less obvious ones; and that is without mentioning McCree’s remarkable skill with a gun and his easygoing charms.

“Um… howdy?” ah. It seems he has been caught staring –he’s very rusty.

He only replies with a polite “Hello.” before sidestepping the rest of the way, but he sees Genji’s posture change out of the corner of his eye and knows the damage is done –his little brother will sooner or later hound him relentlessly and demand to know what this is about.

They were quite open with each other about this sort of thing, back when they were still allowed to be brothers. The older memories are the most painful, because they’re the ones he most holds dear.

 

Things, however, get better after that small incident. Confronting Angela has done wonders for Hanzo’s confidence in his quest for redemption, and soon enough the team’s opinion as a whole shifts, Hanzo is no longer defined by what he did to Genji alone –especially because he stopped doing it to himself.

Genji is inordinately proud, and he would be even prouder if his brother stopped denying himself and responded to McCree’s blatant flirting, for crying out loud!

He will maybe have to tell Jesse to up his game a little, too.

Lines like “Pretty handy with that bow” and “Sake’s not half bad but I prefer a little _bite_ ” will only get him as far, especially with someone as lost in their own self-loathing as Hanzo has been until recently.

Not that he blames it on his brother. Genji understands –it was hard for him to let go too, sometimes he wakes up in the night with a jolt of pain trough his mechanically enhanced spine, or simply due to decade-old nightmares, and dark thoughts fill his mind as he pauses and takes long breaths while his body recalibrates the pent-up energy; but he is able to chase them away, now, helped by the mantra of _‘we are free now, we have each other, we can be brothers again and no one can take that away from us anymore.’_

It is one of such nights, he awoke from dreams of blood, soiled scrolls and choked screams; and he decides that he’s finally going to grow a pair and go to his brother’s room –just like when they were boys.

He didn’t expect to hear Hanzo awake and chuckling from the other side of the door, and for one irrational moment he wonders whether his brother actually has _company_ –did McCree actually make a move and he didn’t know? – but after a few beats it’s clear that Hanzo is alone, either watching or listening to something.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Genji finally rises his hand and knocks. “Anija? Would you let me in? I… I can’t sleep.”

Hanzo’s reply is muffled, but it doesn’t make it any weaker in how it hits Genji: “Come on in, Genji.” He says, “I asked Athena to set it up to always open for you.”

And it’s painful because Genji knows that, at first, the reason Hanzo did it was to give him the chance, should he think back on his forgiveness, to get in the room and murder Hanzo in his sleep.

As it is now, Genji wants nothing more than curl up under the covers and let his big brother chase away the nightmares, like when they were kids.

Hanzo is looking straight at him, and Genji realizes –he is without is visor, all the detachable parts of his armor still back in his own room, and his stupid Power Rangers pyjama bottoms must look absolutely ridiculous. But his older brother just shakes his head, heaves a sigh and shuffles to the side of his bed.

“Go on, then.” He prompts, folding out the corner of the bedsheets as an invitation.

Genji feels the usual pull of scar tissue against his synthetic mandible, but he can’t stop himself from smiling; and readily climbs into bed, not even waiting for permission to grab onto Hanzo like a cybernetic koala and rest his head on his brother’s chest.

He only pauses for a moment –“You weren’t watching porn, were you?”

It’s a stupid question, in hindsight, but Hanzo’s sheer outrage makes it worth it. “Genji, why would I—why would _anyone_ laugh at porn?!”

“I don’t know, ok? Just wanted to make sure I could get in without making it weird.”

“Thus making it weird by asking the question.”

Well, yes. It did backfire spectacularly, Genji is willing to admit that. But it begs the question. “What _were_ you watching, then?”

Something in the look on Hanzo’s face tells the cyborg that his big brother would have almost rather be caught watching porn, and the scrutiny Genji subjects said face to also reveals that the archer’s eyes are red-lined and puffy.

He had been crying before eventually laughing.

Genji has an inkling, but doesn’t dare hope. Not until, with an awkward cough to clear his throat, Hanzo does pass him the data-pad he was looking at before he made his presence known.

The video feed is paused and the frame is blurry, but Genji would recognize that headband anywhere.

It’s his own after all.

He refuses to acknowledge the trembling in his hand as he taps replay from the start.

_They’re walking down the street, and thirteen-year-old Genji is the only one in the shot, but Hanzo’s young voice rings through._

_“Oh no, Genji! Listen! Music!”_

_A song starts from somewhere very close by, surely a device in Hanzo’s hands, and Genji huffs in protest but smiles as he gives in and starts dancing, eventually breaking into silly moves._

Genji is speechless, but can’t quite avert his eyes. The first video cuts out after a while, and another one starts.

_They’re in the gardens near the koi pond, and it’s night._

_The same song starts, at a much lower volume, and Hanzo whispers: “Psst! Genji! Music!”_

_Genji starts the same dance, and Hanzo can be heard trying hard to restrain his laughter, at least until Genji distractedly steps backwards towards the pond, slips and fall in. Then the camera immediately drops, landing on the ground sideways as Hanzo, now in shot, rushes to fish his little brother out._

_“Are you okay?”_

_Genji’s reply is too low to be picked up on the mic._

_“Let’s get you dried up.” Sixteen years old Hanzo takes off his kimono and drapes it around Genji’s tiny and soaked form, while they step back towards the place the camera had fallen._

_“Can I sleep in your bed, anija?”_

_“Of course.”_

The feed cuts and the next video begins. Genji feels his eyes begin to moisten and holy shit. He wasn’t even aware he still _could_ cry.

_They’re in Rikimaru. One of the few places where they allow themselves to be silly in public. The camera gets set on the table and Genji is already suspicious._

_The song starts. “Genji…” Hanzo’s voice has a teasing, sing-song quality to it, and Genji is already wolfing up his bite of noodles as the notes start winding up._

_With remarkable speed, he manages to step up and away from the chair in time to catch the chorus and do his silly dance. There’s even a few chuckles to the nearby patrons, before the feed cuts off again._

Genji has to swipe at his eyes as he watches the last one start.

_This time, Genji is alone on camera, clearly starting it by himself, and showing his prize to it: Hanzo’s personal phone._

_He has stolen it, and knows Hanzo will use his ‘work’ phone to call himself to locate it._

_His big brother has the_ stupidest _ringtone in known history, and fourteen-years-old Genji is determined to record it. On cue, the ringing starts, and Genji starts dancing to it, mindful of making his moves as idiotic as possible._

_The door to his room finally opens. “Genji, have you taken my—what are you doing?!”_

_With beautiful timing, the ringtone ends, just for the loop to begin again moments later. Hanzo looks quite taken aback and he is frowning –thinking him angry, Genji just starts dancing again, hoping to be exempt from punishment out of cuteness. Unexpectedly, Hanzo joins in on the dance._

Genji remembers that day. He had almost forgot, but seeing it on camera made him remember. His brother does have a sense of humor. Seeing him play along and dance just as stupidly as him made Genji happier than he had ever been.

Hanzo is looking at anything but him. Genji has to swallow the lump in his throat before he can speak. “You kept this… all this time?”

He doesn’t know why it’s so surprising. After all, Hanzo _had_ been back to Shimada castle every day to mourn him on the anniversary of their duel, and when he still didn’t know who Genji was, during their second duel, he shouted _“you are not worthy of saying his name!”_ when he tried to talk some sense into him.

Genji guesses it’s because this is something he can see and touch. Actual, physical proof that his big brother never stopped loving him, never stopped missing him.

…probably never stopped regretting every second of that cursed night, as he re-watched memories of their childhood in a desperate attempt to still feel like Genji was there with him.

Hanzo doesn’t say anything, and Genji’s mouth runs dry. “What—what else have you saved?”

That makes his big brother clear his throat again. “Not much.” He admits. “Our first selfie together. The time we recorded your high-score on the vintage DDR. The origami dragon you made for me.”

 _The origami dragon?_ Genji barely remembers and almost can’t believe it –it was not particularly well done and far from his best work ever. He had been six at the time after all. But nine-year-old Hanzo took it and said he’d keep it forever… Genji fights back a chuckle, he should have known Hanzo was not one to break his promises.

Then it clicks in his mind: he had caught glances of Hanzo’s strange deformed bookmark sometimes, when he was reading in the rec room, he even overheard Mei’s offer of giving Hanzo one of hers, politely rebuked with a “The one I have suits me just fine, thank you”. It was not a bookmark at all.

Hanzo had kept the goddamn origami dragon. The stupid, butt-ugly thing. And held it dear enough to decline any other object as his bookmark.

For some reason, it’s what breaks him. He shoves the data-pad aside and hugs Hanzo aggressively tight. “I had worked so hard to forget, anija—“ he says, voice choking up when he doesn’t bother to hide the sobs, “At first I just wanted to _erase everything_ about you…” he hiccups, and hides his face in his brother’s chest when Hanzo doesn’t protest, “And even after— even after Nepal, I thought…” his voice is now muffled, but his brother seems content with waiting it out, and the hand rubbing soothing circles behind his shoulder-blades makes Genji burrow deeper in the embrace, “I still thought it was better to let the past stay in the past, but you— you never forgot about me. Not the things that counted.”

Hanzo is at a loss on what to say. For all intents and purposes, it sounds like Genji is apologising to him, like _he_ ’s the one who did something wrong in all of this; just for wanting to forget his would-be murderer before forgiveness became an option. “It’s okay, Genji…” he whispers, a bit awkwardly but sincere in his words, “I… I would have deserved to be forgotten. Sometimes, I catch myself thinking I still do.”

It is, apparently, the wrong thing to say, since Genji hugs him tighter, if at all possible, and buries his face in Hanzo’s neck. “Anija…”

Something in that call, so broken and lonely, breaks Hanzo’s resolve as well. He lets himself properly hug Genji, and he utters the nickname he denied himself for well over a decade. “I’m so sorry, little sparrow…”

Genji audibly sobs in his arms, and Hanzo can feel tears start down his eyes as well.

 _What would father think_ , a distant part of his mind ponders, two grown-ass men, trained assassins, bawling their eyes out while cuddling on a bed over stupid childhood memories.

It does feel oddly cathartic, if a bit anticlimactic. After weeks of skirting around both each other and the topic, as much of an elephant in the room as it was whenever they were in the same place, Hanzo almost expected for the tension to break into a fight. Feeling the still-beating heart of his brother, however cybernetically assisted, so close to his own; Hanzo finds that he very much prefers this.

He ends up letting Genji stay the night, since they both fall asleep, exhausted after their tears dissolve into near-hysterical laughter and nonsensical whispered words in Japanese.

Predictably, they both completely forget about the training simulation they were supposed to have the next morning, and McCree is the one to ask Athena to unlock Hanzo’s door for him with his override clearance, after he failed to find Genji in his room.

If he thinks anything of the sight of the two of them, groggy and with tear-streaked faces as they clumsily stumble out of their brotherly embrace, the cowboy doesn’t say.

Instead, he just briefly stares at Hanzo before clearing his voice. “I’m, uh… I’mma go out on a limb and say it’ll take ya a couple o’ minutes to get yerself presentable.” His gaze instinctively goes down to Hanzo’s bared chest, and the archer fights the irrational urge to cover himself. He does, however, attempt to pat down his hair to an acceptable look.

“Yes. Thank you, McCree.”

Still resting on the bed and pretending to be half-asleep, Genji watches the exchange with interest.

“You’re welcome, darlin’.” Jesse says, brain not quite catching up with the fact that Hanzo’s thanks had a heavily implied ‘can you get out of here while I compose myself’ behind them. Funnily enough, the archer seems reluctant to spell it out for him, so the two are left staring at each other, neither quite knowing what to do.

Some color is finally starting to darken Hanzo’s cheek as he finally gives up, averting his gaze. “McCree?” he calls, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, unaware of how the cowboy tracks the movement.

“Y-yes?”

“If you would be so kind as to wait outside…”

Jesse could have smacked himself. Of course Hanzo doesn’t want to be watched as he recovers from whatever freak-out he and Genji had together. “A-ah, of course.” He says, making his way back out, “..’scuse me.” Stupid, stupid, stupid!

It’s good that they finally properly reconciled, Jesse guesses, and it’s been hard enough as is, they don’t need him gawking at them like an idiot while it happens. If only his brain wouldn’t stop functioning every time he so much looks at the archer.

 

On the other side of the door, Hanzo turns to look at Genji. “Hey.” He says, tired but gentle, not adding anything else.

“Hey.” Genji parrots, before chuckling slightly, “Your hair is a mess.”

“I wonder why.” Hanzo deadpans, voice flat but his face betraying a smile –he’s been doing it more, lately, and Genji couldn’t be prouder of him, “It’s not as if _someone_ has been playing with my hair for most of the night.”

They share a full, genuine laugh. The first in a decade. New memories for the both of them.

The thought gives Genji an idea. “Hey, anija! Let’s take another selfie!”

“Now?! Genji, I look terrible…” Hanzo is reluctant, his instinct falling back on the concepts of propriety hammered into him, but Genji is having none of it.

“We can look terrible together, then. Come on!”

Hanzo eventually indulges him. He has long come to terms with the fact that he always will. Especially now that he has his baby brother back. They have so much to catch up on.

After the new selfie is snapped, their appearance dishevelled but both their expressions happier than they have ever been so far, Genji’s smile turns devious.

“So, brother… about Jesse….”

“God _damn_ it, Genji!”

Maybe.

Maybe things are going to be fine for them, after all.


End file.
